


Home

by TheSoundOfThunderstorms



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Coping, F/F, Ghosts, Grief, Guilt, I know how all these tags sound just trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:06:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22145359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundOfThunderstorms/pseuds/TheSoundOfThunderstorms
Summary: She came home.
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 78
Kudos: 90





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tygerrtygerr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygerrtygerr/gifts).



> Dedicated to my bro :)
> 
> Trust me on this.  
> Enjoy.

Angela sat outside the airport, eyes glued to the boarding pass glowing on her tablet. For most of the morning, her body stayed glued to that bench, unwilling to move.

Someone approached the bench and asked if they could take a seat beside her. Angela nodded, picking up her carry-on bag and placing it on the ground next to her suitcase. She noticed the Egyptian military uniform. Intrigue urged her to get a better look at her bench companion but Angela didn’t want to seem rude. She kept her eyes focused on her tablet instead.

“When’s your flight?”

“Huh?” Angela snapped her eyes away from the screen to finally see the person beside her. She blushed at the warm smile greeting her.

The woman pointed to the tablet. “Since I’m just waiting, I can help keep track of time.”

“Thank you, but I decided I’m not going.”

“Staying here then?”

Angela shrugged. “It looks that way. I was offered a chance at a hospital back home but… I couldn’t get myself on the plane.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

“How so?”

“I got to meet you.”

Angela’s blush deepened. “Flatterer.” She locked her tablet and focused her full attention on the woman next to her. “What about you? Do you have anywhere to be or do you just like to strike up conversations with strangers?”

“My mother is picking me up. Since I’m home, I’m apparently staying at least a week with her.”

“She must have missed you.”

“It’s more like she knows I have time off so she’s taking advantage of it. This was my last tour with the military and I’m staying home for good.”

Something about that sparked excitement in Angela. “Maybe I’ll get to see you around?”

“I’d like that.” The woman reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a crumpled receipt. She scribbled something on the back and handed it to Angela. “That’s for just in case I don’t bump into you again.”

The cheeky smile in the early afternoon sun was contagious. Angela couldn’t hide her grin as she took the wrinkled receipt.

“Ma’am?” Angela jolted in her seat. “Is this spot taken?”

Wiping away the stray tears rolling down her cheek, Angela stood up from the airport bench. “No. I was just leaving.” She stuffed a discolored piece of paper in her pocket and walked away down the dark sidewalk.

After an hour of driving, the car door slammed shut. Angela reached into her pocket and fished out her house keys. The lights were off. Ana must have gone to bed.

Angela tossed her shoes off once she got inside. Quiet footsteps brought her to her room where she shut the door with a soft click behind. The bed gave way under her weight. She didn’t even notice she moved from the door until tear brimmed eyes spotted the small box on her bedside table. Angela slid her hand into her pocket, feeling the paper crinkle beneath her touch. She was careful with pulling it out. The receipt served as one of the few memories she allowed herself to keep.

Opening the small box, Angela tucked the receipt away first. Trembling fingers pulled off the wedding band she wore and placed it on the worn piece of paper. It obscured most of the numbers but Angela could still see the scrawled out name beneath them. Fast hands closed the box before familiar tears could stain her cheeks.

Angela didn’t bother changing out of her clothes. She knew not to get out of bed then. Too many nights crying on the bathroom floor unable to move taught her better. She climbed under the sheets, pointedly facing the window before squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth to keep from crying.

Sleep eventually came hours later.

-

The insistent nagging of her alarm woke Angela up. Her face felt tight. She rubbed at the dried tears and sighed. It would wash off in the shower.

In the bathroom, Angela made the water as hot as she could tolerate. She winced when the water hit her skin but relaxed once the heat warmed her skin. She didn’t move, not until her face went numb. 

The drain had her rapt attention. Angela finished washing up ten minutes ago but her legs were locked in place as she thought about her plans for the day. Last year she and Ana went for a visit after her shift at the hospital. This year, she wanted some time to herself before their visit. That was why she got up at four in the morning.

Steam spilled out of the bathroom when Angela finally got herself to leave. She ran a towel through her wet hair and tossed it over a chair. Grabbing her shoes for the day, Angela shoved them on each foot. She made it all the way to her bedroom door before turning around. Her eyes landed on the small box still sitting on the bedside table. She hesitated before walking towards it.

Angela’s fingers tapped the box, feeling the familiar texture. She’d grown used to how it felt from the countless nights of squeezing it tight between her palms only to place it back where she had it. The box opened and Angela grabbed the golden wedding band. She slid it on her finger, closing the box afterward.

She passed Ana’s room on the way to the kitchen. She hated going in there, feet picking up the pace just to pass by it faster.

Coffee started brewing as she walked in, the time read 4:30 on the machine. She made a small breakfast and stuffed it in a food container when the coffee maker beeped. The pot of coffee found a new home in a travel mug. Breakfast and coffee in hand, Angela headed out the front door.

Pale fingers gripped the steering wheel tight. Angela had gone by herself plenty of times before. Sometimes she’d visit for hours on end, rare moments where she felt good enough to recount her day. Today wasn’t one of those times.

-

The rising sun warmed the cool air around her. Angela ate her breakfast slower, not wanting to leave for work quite yet. She didn’t care if she got to work late. They’d understand.

“We’re coming to see you tonight after I get off work.” She took a sip of coffee and pressed her back to the cool stone behind. Tears filled her lashes. Angela dropped the travel mug when she went to wipe them away. The coffee spilled out into the grass. “I’m sorry. I know you never liked coffee.”

Angela picked up the overturned mug, placing it atop her empty food container. “I miss you.” She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them. “I miss you so much.”

She stayed that way, fingers idly twirling the wedding band around. Despite how painful this day was, Angela found comfort in her spot in the grass, ignoring the alarms she set for work.

At the sound of morning traffic, Angela stood up, empty containers in hand, and walked away from the grave that read: Fareeha Amari.

-

Amélie had her legs crossed, her hands folded above the table. The coffee she ordered had long since gone cold but that didn’t concern her. Angela sat across from her, one of her hands gripped the table as the other stayed busy covering her eyes.

Around noon, Amélie received a call from Angela. At first, when she picked up, Amélie got nothing but the background noise of the hospital, then silence that followed the clicking of a door. Three words: Are you busy? She was on her couch, half-naked with a warm cheek fused to her chest. Amélie replied with a quiet ‘no’ as she ran her free hand through soft hair.

“I’m sorry.” Garbled words came out of Angela’s mouth as she tried to speak again.

“It’s been two years, yes?” Amélie stretched out a hand to comfort Angela. She watched how Angela could only answer with a nod of her head. Gentle fingers curled around Angela’s. The touch seemed to make the sobbing a fraction better. “Time helps but you’ll always love her. It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to cry.”

Angela uncovered her eyes, letting the tears flow freely. She squeezed Amélie’s hand back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A cold coil winded through Amélie’s body. “You are a strong woman, I’m sure I didn’t do much to help you.” If it were anyone else, she would have taken the compliment.

“You’ve helped more than you know.” A grateful smile appeared on Angela’s lips.

Amélie picked up her cup, taking a sip of her cold coffee to hide her frown. Her phone lit up on the table. A text with a single kiss emoji sent to her. And then another one, an image she didn’t dare attempt to open in front of Angela.

“Do you need to go?” asked Angela.

Amélie flipped her phone over on the table and shook her head. “No, I can stay as long as you need.”

-

When Angela got home, she found Ana sitting on the couch. Ana held her and Fareeha’s wedding photo, tired eye blinking slowly at it. Angela didn’t want to disturb her but if they were going to visit Fareeha, they should head out soon.

“I’m home.” Angela closed the door behind her, smiling at Ana as she walked closer.

Ana looked up from the photo, blinking fast at Angela’s voice. She matched Angela’s smile and put the picture down on the table in front of her. “Welcome back. I’ll be ready in a moment.”

Angela gave a stiff nod. “I’ll just go get changed.”

Walking past the living room, Angela headed to her room. She went straight for the bed and sat down. Angela stared down at her shoes, watching them sway over the edge of the bed. Her jaw clenched. Fingers curled into fists. And she kept staring, feeling her head shake as she tried to hold back. Because she remembered this same night two years ago.

The phone call she got that made her smile.

Fareeha on the other end trying to talk away her boredom on her long bus ride.

How she let the call go on even after Fareeha had fallen asleep.

And then it went silent as Fareeha’s phone died.

Angela remembered the piercing ringing that ripped through her ears when she got another call. It didn’t feel real.

Her mouth got dry. Her throat ached and her head hurt. It hurt so damn much.

_We’re so sorry for your lo-_

“Angela?” Ana knocked on the door, a hint of worry spilled through the other side of the door.

Trembling fists stilled. Angela let go of a held breath. She relaxed her hands and stilled her feet, finally looking away from them as her focus snapped to the door.

“I-” Angela’s voice croaked. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I’ll be out in a moment.” She still needed to get changed.

-

Ana took her hand off the door. Angela had been in her room for nearly 40 minutes. She understood how time always managed to escape you in grief. How there never seemed to be enough of it, rushing ahead without heed of those it left behind.

Backtracking to the living room, Ana couldn’t help how her eyes drifted to the wedding photo, the only photo of Fareeha that Angela left out. The rest were stuffed in a box in Angela’s closet. Or in Ana’s room. Angela rarely visited that room, freezing every time she saw the photos on the wall.

Taking a moment to peer down the hallway, Ana saw that Angela still hadn’t come out yet. She decided to make tea to take with them. It was supposed to be a cold night anyway.

Making tea came with practiced ease. Ana had the water set to boil on the stove and picked out the tea already. There came a knock on the door. She left the kettle on the stove. It probably wasn’t anyone important.

Just in the way that time can speed up, it can also slow down. Ana was grateful for it, else she’d be on the floor, swept down by her knees giving way, no time to brace herself. But she had time, time enough to grab hold of the doorknob and hold on for dear life as she pulled the door open.

“Are you okay?” Worried eyes on the other side of the threshold examined Ana, warm hands already supporting the woman.

“You…” Ana could barely speak, staring straight at the face she thought she’d never see again. Her mind kept screaming it wasn’t real, but her heart knew better.

“Let’s get you inside okay?” Strong arms brought Ana into the living room and had her sit on the couch. The loud screeching of the kettle sounded through the house. “I’ll get that for you.”

Ana sat there, staring at her shaking hands. Too hard to believe. Too good to be true and too cruel if it were her imagination. But the sounds coming from the kitchen told another story. 

-

Angela had meant to get ready sooner but every time she tried, her mind flooded with memories of that day. An awful loop of reliving what happened.

The knock at the front door finally spurred her into action. She could hear it all the way from her room, the heavy-handed confidence echoing through the house. Angela stepped out of her room a couple of minutes later, sweater in hand in case it got too chilly for her.

“Who was at the door?” asked Angela as she busied herself with folding the sweater in her hands. She stopped in the living room when she heard no reply. The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen caught her attention, making her finally look up.

The sweater fell to the ground. Angela’s arms hung limp at her sides. A high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears as her blood froze in her veins. She felt it in her throat first, that frost that held her breath away. Angela backed away with jagged movements, knees threatening to buckle with every step. Stiff fingers rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear her vision of the sight before her. “No, no, no, no.” It wouldn’t go away, the ghost she used to see at every corner.

“Get out.” Words were the only thing that ever worked against her ghost. Angela blinked a few times, hot tears spilling down her face when worried eyes looked back at her. Those same eyes she missed so damn much. “Just leave me alone.” She placed a supporting hand on the wall as a wave of nausea rose to her throat. Angela hadn’t seen one in so long. Why now? “I can’t deal with this today.” Why this day? She closed her eyes tight, hoping her mind would listen, that it would stop this torment. “Please, just leave.”

When Angela opened her eyes, she broke. She let out a painful wail. Angela slammed her fist against the wall, again and again until the pain proved too much. She let it hang limply by her side, feeling it throb in agony.

The ghost got closer, speaking something Angela couldn’t hear over the ringing in her ears.

Almost tripping over herself, Angela spun away from the ghost, clumsy feet taking her back to her room.

-

Ana got up from the couch and reached out for a warm hand, shaking her head as tearful eyes stared back at her with wide exasperation. “Let her go.” The hand pulled out of her hold. Ana grimaced, listening to the footsteps that defied her words as she focused on the floor. “Fareeha.” Some semblance of relief filled her system when her daughter stopped in her tracks. 

“What happened?” Strained words barely carried down the hallway.

Ana lifted her gaze from the floor. It was almost too much to look at Fareeha. Because she had been there at the funeral. Seen her daughter’s body lying so still, eyes closed forever. Kissed a cold forehead before they lowered her into the ground.

You shouldn’t be here.

Ana held her arms out, inviting Fareeha to get closer. “Just come here. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Fareeha turned around, facing Ana. She glanced over her shoulder, to the door Angela disappeared behind before taking the few steps towards her mother. Bending down, she gave Ana the hug expected of her. “You always say that. I’ve only been gone a few days.” The words came out mumbled, laced with profound sadness. Concern for Angela no doubt.

Ana wanted to cry, overwhelmed by the warmth from Fareeha. She didn’t care how it didn’t make any sense. Just that she had her daughter back. “I know, I know.”

“Why is Angela upset?” asked Fareeha. Never one to let things go unresolved, of course Fareeha had to ask about Angela again.

Ana let go of Fareeha and sighed. “That’s… Difficult to explain.”

Fareeha furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“For now, Angela just needs some space.”

Fareeha wouldn’t let it go. “She’s obviously upset about something and you want me to do nothing about it?”

“Fareeha, please.”

Frowning deep, Fareeha gave one last look down the hall before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. We can talk about it later. I just,” she sighed again, “want some sleep.”

Ana took hold of Fareeha’s arm and led Fareeha down to her room. “Use my bed.”

“Then where are you going to sleep?”

Ana laughed. “I didn’t say you could have it all to yourself.”

“I can just use the couch.”

“And wake up with a sore neck?” Ana hid her concern behind a grin. She didn’t want Angela to find Fareeha on the couch in the morning. It wouldn’t go over well.

Fareeha rubbed at her neck and shrugged. “I guess not.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is this seat taken?” Angela watched with a smile as the woman sitting at the booth looked up at her.

“Not at all.” Fareeha grinned at Angela’s initiative. She gestured for Angela to take the seat opposite her.

It had been a week since they met. Angela started with what she knew. “How was staying with your mother?”

Fareeha laughed. “I have to say, nothing beats a home-cooked meal. Especially compared to what they feed you in the military.”

“Now I’m jealous. I’m a terrible cook.”

“So, you eat out a lot?”

“Pretty much.”

Fareeha rested her head on her palm, gleaming eyes focused solely on Angela. “Maybe you just need someone to teach you.”

“Would you be that someone willing to teach me?”

A smirk. “I’d love to. You already have my number, just give me a call anytime.”

Angela’s smile grew. “What would I learn first if I called you?”

Fareeha looked to the corner of the ceiling, humming to herself. Her eyes flitted back to Angela. “You know how to fry an egg?”

“I always burn them.”

Smoke filled the kitchen.

Angela had woken up that morning, eyes puffy from crying into the night, terrified to leave her room. She felt bad for leaving Ana to visit alone but she couldn’t do it. She thought she had moved on from seeing ghosts, but it showed up again, haunting her once more.

As some sort of apology, Angela decided to make breakfast for Ana. Her efforts didn’t go well. Too caught up in what happened last night, Angela managed to burn the eggs. She heard a laugh, a sweet sound she only experienced in her dreams.

“Yeah, you really need some help.”

Angela stiffened. Her heart thudded in her chest, making the blood pump loud in her ears. Twitching fingers turned the stove off. She turned around in jagged movements, hoping to some higher power that she heard things, some snapshot of a memory from long ago.

Nothing.

It should have brought relief. But Angela could only think about a potential repeat of last night, how she could slip back to old habits. She hated how she was almost two years ago: unable to lift one damn finger to help herself, too afraid of the ghost that tormented her. She had given up so much control over her life, letting a figment of her mind dictate her waking hours.

Pure hell.

Reaching for her phone on the counter, Angela texted Amélie with one hand while she used the other to dump the burnt eggs into the trash. She’d buy some tea for Ana instead of trying to remake the eggs she knew she’d burn again. Right then, she needed to talk to someone who would understand.

-I need to see you. Do you have time soon?

As she waited for a reply, Angela considered if she should take time off work. No, she needed the distraction. Work kept her mind at peace. She couldn’t see ghosts if she had patients to take care of.

-Did something happen?

Angela hesitated in her reply, dreading having to admit her lapse in progress.

-I saw her again.

-Meet me at the café.

Angela let out a held breath. She tossed the pan in the sink, resolving to wash it when she got home.

-

Amélie focused her attention on the blonde. She had attended two sessions of the support group just for her. It didn’t feel right to approach the woman without hearing her say something first. For the past two meetings, Angela hadn’t spoken a single word. Angela would sit in her chair and listen to everyone’s story, silently pouring herself a cup of barely tolerable coffee after it ended. Today Angela finally spoke.

“Five months ago, my wife died. One moment I was on the phone with her and then, the next, I was on the phone with someone else, listening to my worst nightmare. She’d been killed. They did it while she was asleep on the bus.”

For a while, it seemed like Angela had stopped there, said all she needed to say. But everyone gave her time, waited and waited until she finally spoke again.

“I miss her so much. Everything in the house reminds me of her. I can’t even make coffee without remembering how much she hated it. And I can barely do anything without my mind conjuring up some memory of us together, reminding me every single day that she’s not here. She’s just… Gone.

“I’ll have these dreams where everything is okay, where it’s just a normal day with her. And I hate it. I hate waking up every single day, remembering all over again that she’ll never come home.”

Angela wrung her hands together. “But that’s not it. I keep seeing her. She’ll just… Suddenly be there. Sometimes she speaks but most times she stands there, staring. I don’t, I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I don’t know what to do anymore.” And then she broke, tears streaming down her cheeks as her shoulders shook. 

The group consoled her with kind words but Amélie stayed in her seat and waited until the end of the meeting to move. She approached Angela from behind, “Angela, yes?”

Startled, Angela whipped around, coming face to face with Amélie. She nodded.

“I couldn’t help but feel a connection when you spoke about your wife. When my husband died, I’d see him standing at the foot of my bed every night.” Amélie paused. “Blood would drip on the sheets, pouring out the hole from his chest. I hardly slept.”

Angela nearly dropped the coffee she held, crinkling the rim of the cheap paper cup provided to the group to keep it steady in her hand. “You…”

“I don’t see him anymore.” Amélie swallowed, trying to find the right words. “But sometimes at night, I can still hear his footsteps.” She gave a soft smile. “Maybe we can help each other with our ghosts.”

The ringing of a bell brought Amélie out of her thoughts. She saw the visible relief on Angela’s face once the other woman caught sight of her.

“Thank you for coming,” said Angela. She took the seat opposite Amélie, bouncing her leg up and down as she busied herself with biting the inside of her cheek.

“It’s never a problem.” The only problem Amélie had that morning was the obstacle of untangling herself from the warm body that clung to her in sleep. And that was only a problem because she didn’t want to leave. It didn’t help when a tired voice begged her to come back to bed, soft lips kissing her captured hand.

Angela fiddled with her thumbs before she spoke again. “I saw her yesterday. I thought that was behind me since I hadn’t seen her in so long.” Her thumbs stilled. “I’m worried it’s going to keep happening again. And I don’t know if I can take it.”

Amélie bit her bottom lip as she scoured her mind with the right thing to say. She remembered how Angela was before. “You are doing well. Sometimes these things happen, especially on days like yesterday. It was the anniversary, right?”

Angela's shoulders sank and her body slumped in the chair. She gave a stiff nod as she focused on staring at the table.

“It doesn’t all go away, but it gets better. In time, it will hurt less.”

“But how much time?” Desperation colored Angela’s voice, accompanying her steadily growing frown.

“That’s up to you. Some people just need more time to grieve and that’s okay.” Amélie twitched the corner of her lips up. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

Angela nodded along slowly, almost mindlessly. And then her head stilled. She reached out to touch Amélie’s arm. “Thank you.”

For Amélie, the touch burned.

-

Ana had been sitting in her chair for the past half hour, staring at the form sleeping peacefully in her bed. She managed to convince Fareeha to give Angela some space, lending her some clothes to sleep comfortably in. Being honest with herself, she was half convinced she had dreamt it all. But then Fareeha moved, rustling the blankets in her slumber.

Getting up from the chair, Ana stepped out of her room. She went into the kitchen to make breakfast, crinkling her nose at the burning smell that lingered in the air. Ana spotted the blackened pan sitting in the sink. She walked over to it and turned on the faucet to clean the pan. She needed it anyway.

Pan clean, Ana smiled to herself. For the first time in years, she could finally make Fareeha’s favorite again. She had stopped making certain dishes altogether, finding it hard to eat them when her daughter couldn’t enjoy them anymore.

Footsteps sounded in the kitchen when the smell of food wafted into the air.

“What happened to all my clothes?” Fareeha yawned, still wearing her mother’s old clothing. She peered over Ana’s shoulder and gave a soft sound of approval.

“You went in there?” Ana grabbed two plates and piled on food for them both.

“It’s my room too, why wouldn’t I?” Fareeha grabbed the plate offered to her and sat down at the table. Another yawn. “Everything looks different too. Did Angela change everything while I was gone?”

Ana stayed tactful in her reply. “Angela… Wanted a change of pace. New furniture. New clothes. Just everything new.” Her mind raced to come up with something to address the elephant in the room. She knew Fareeha would ask.

“So she just forgot to put my clothes back?” And there it was.

Ana ignored the question, finding it hard to explain that she and Angela gave away most of Fareeha’s clothes a year and a half ago. “Fareeha, how long were you gone again?”

“Two days.” Fareeha spooned some food into her mouth, posture relaxing as she enjoyed herself. “I woke up on the bus and I couldn’t find any of my stuff. Wallet, keys, bag, all of it was stolen.” She shrugged. “But it wasn’t that much a walk to get home so I figured I’d file a police report after getting some sleep.” Another mouthful of food. “I sort of forgot about all that after… You know.”

Ana came up with an excuse on the spot. “When we were exchanging the furniture, I remember seeing that you had forgotten your wallet at home. We put a lot of things in boxes and I think a lot of your stuff accidentally got donated.”

Fareeha pressed her lips together. “So, you’re saying I need to get new cards and new clothes because you and Angela accidentally donated them.”

Ana smiled, Fareeha always did keep a level head about this sort of thing. “I can go with you if you want, especially since you don’t have your wallet. We can even get you another bag.”

Fareeha stayed quiet. She stared down at her plate and let out a heavy sigh as she nodded. Annoyance, understandably so. “I’ll pay you back when I get a new card.”

Ana shook her head. Fareeha didn’t have an account anymore. “Don’t worry about it.”

With the noncommittal shrug and the soft ‘ok’ Ana got in response, it seemed that the rest of breakfast would go along without issue. Except, Fareeha always did have a knack for stirring the pot.

“How long are you staying?” asked Fareeha. The spoon scraped the plate as she ate a bit faster.

Ana raised an eyebrow, thrown off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, how long are you visiting?” Fareeha pointed her spoon in the direction of Ana’s room. “I noticed you set up the guest room so I’m assuming you’ll be here for a while.” She grinned. “You even hung up pictures.”

Oh.

Shit.

Ana had moved in with Angela four months after the funeral. She came to check on Angela one day and found that Angela had barely taken care of herself. Dishes overflowed in the sink. Rotting food lined the fridge. Piles of laundry littered the floor. Dust covered every surface her eyes landed on; it even coated the haphazard pile of take-out boxes on the table. And Angela, the woman could barely drag herself out of bed most days. It killed Ana to see her like that. Despite only fairing slightly better than Angela, she still managed to get up every day for a shower and food. The next day, she had hired a moving company.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Ana finally said.

-

A long day at work invigorated Angela. She welcomed the distraction of attending to her patients and filling out paperwork. A welcome disruption to the thoughts plaguing her mind. So, when she got home with a new tin of tea for Ana in hand, she didn’t notice that Ana wasn’t reading a book on the couch like usual. She went straight to her room to get changed.

Sharp eyes zoned in on the right side of her dresser. She always kept those drawers empty. It was the side Fareeha always used. But one of them stuck out slightly. Curiosity compelled her to open it. Angel gripped the knob tightly and dropped the tin when she saw it filled with clothing. It wasn’t hers and it reminded her too much of the clothes Fareeha would wear.

“Ana.” Angela closed the drawer, opening it again to see if she had imagined things. “Ana!”

Ana walked inside Angela’s room a moment later.

“What’s all this?” asked Angela. She hadn’t put those clothes there.

Ana peered over to the open drawer. She took her time to speak. “It looks like clothes to me.”

“But who put them there?” Angela’s words had a bite to them. She really didn’t put those clothes there.

Ana took another drawn-out moment to answer. “I did.”

“I want them gone.”

If she wanted to say something, Ana kept any comments to herself as Angela dug into the drawer, pulled out a pile of neatly folded clothes, and dropped them on the ground. She stood behind Angela and watched her do it again and again until the rest of the drawers on that side were empty, all the clothes scattered on the floor.

Angela leaned her forearms against the dresser, resting her head against them. She screwed her eyes shut. “Why did you do that?” She wanted an answer, something that made sense. Because for all the reasons in the world, she had no idea why Ana would do something like that.

Ana kept quiet. She picked up the clothes and left without a word.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Angela let her tears fall as she whispered to herself, “Why did you do that?”

-

Ana came back to the guest room where Fareeha waited patiently like she had asked.

“What happened?” Fareeha relieved Ana of the clothes and set them down on the bed. “Why are you bringing these here?”

“I told you it was a bad idea to put them there.” Ana automatically went to fold the clothes, quick hands making the task look so easy.

Fareeha furrowed her brows and frowned. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on with Angela?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt.” Ana’s folding became heavy-handed. She all but slammed them on the bed each time she finished with one.

“I already am.” Tears rimmed Fareeha’s eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. She let out a sharp breath and headed out of Ana’s room, mind already made.

“Fareeha, please don’t.”

Ignoring her mother, Fareeha made her way down the hallway and into her room, not bothering to knock. She spotted Angela leaned against the dresser sobbing. Her anger left at the sight. “Angela?” She flinched when Angela cried harder at her voice.

“Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Fareeha heard Angela mutter to herself, unable to make out any of the words.

A stuttered sigh. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You are what’s wrong. It’s always been you. How am I supposed to forget you when you never seem to go away?”

That hurt to hear. “I don’t understand.” Fareeha wanted so desperately to understand, to know what Angela had on her mind. She had only been gone for two days.

“Of course you don’t.” Angela laughed to herself. “You’re not supposed to.” She shoved a finger to her chest. “I’m supposed to figure this out.”

Anger boiled beneath Fareeha’s skin, fueled by Angela’s laughter. “I thought you loved me. What the hell changed?” What could have possibly happened in two fucking days?

“I do.” Angela wiped at her eyes as she laughed again. “I did?” She got quiet and her body stilled. “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.” Those last words rang out like a tired truth.

“Then what aren’t you telling me?” The more Angela spoke, the more Fareeha couldn’t comprehend. Something was missing. Something both Angela and Ana knew but wouldn’t tell her.

Angela stood up and wiped away more tears. “This is… New.” She stared down Fareeha, pressing her lips together in uncertainty. “You don’t ever stay this long.”

Fareeha had no idea what Angela meant by that. “What?”

“Just, please, go away.” Exhaustion emphasized every word.

“I want to help.”

Angela balled her fists, keeping her eyes on Fareeha. “Then leave.”

Beyond frustrated with the whole conversation, Fareeha spit out the same excuse Ana kept giving her. “So, what, you need space?”

“That’s a mild way to put it.”

Fareeha wanted to scream. But that never solved anything. “Then we’ll talk about this some other time.”

“I’d rather you just stay gone.”

There were no words for that. Fareeha left the room in stunned silence. She tried not to let it get to her, failing miserably as the pain seeped in. Her heart ached so much that she wanted to fall to the ground and cry her eyes out.

Fareeha didn’t even notice when she got back to the guest room. Her mother looked at her with so much guilt. Because Ana knew. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will explain more, promise.


	3. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, there was one part that took me a while to have a eureka moment on. Something along the lines of framing the truth with another truth.

Fareeha’s outburst lingered in the room, manifesting as an incriminating silence the longer Ana avoided Fareeha’s gaze. She pointed a finger to the door, feeling her arm shake as she listened to the irregular beating of the pulse in her ears. “What the hell happened to her after I left?”

Ana shifted her gaze to her left, eye landing on one of the drawers. She took a few steps towards it, reaching her hand out for the handle, stopping short of touching it. Ana grabbed hold of the back of the chair pushed under the desk instead. She squeezed. “Fareeha, you were gone far longer than two days.”

A door slammed in the hallway. A wave of silence urged footsteps down the hall, drowning out every sound it crashed against.

Fareeha’s face numbed. Her hand dropped to her side as she tried to understand what Ana meant. No matter how long she thought about it, she knew her mother was wrong.

But.

It did little to stop the numbness from spreading to her neck, where it branched off into icy coils along her skull. Her mind reeled through memories, replaying moments for her from two days ago.

She had an assignment.

She grabbed the last bus out of town.

She fell asleep.

And then…

And then?

Ringing. Nothing but ringing.

-

Angela needed to get out of there. She barely noticed that she had gotten into her car until after the engine spurred to life. Sitting there with her fingers digging into the steering wheel, Angela clenched her teeth as reality hit her: She wasn’t getting better.

Angela sank in her seat. She stared out through the windshield, boring holes into the front door of the house with her tired gaze. How many times had she done this? Stormed out of the house to escape a ghost. A figment of her imagination. She gave it so much power.

Because it was Fareeha.

Angela sighed. She pulled herself upright and turned on the radio. Some talk show came on. The noise served as a welcome distraction.

The host laughed and cleared his throat. “Today we’re taking in calls…”

“You think I’ll win?” A familiar voice that had reminded Angela just how tight she held the steering wheel. She kept her gaze locked to the wilting plant sitting by the door. She remembered laughing, doubting the call would even go through.

Fareeha had pulled out her phone. A smile had peeked from the corner of her lips. “Watch me.”

And she had gotten an answer first try.

Angela raised a hand to her mouth, hiding back the smile brought on by excitement as she heard the words, “You’re on the air.”

“I’m in the car with my girlfriend, so first thing I want to say is: I love you.” A flurry of endearments came spilling out the speaker at Fareeha’s confession. “And to answer your question…”

Heart pounding, Angela whipped her gaze to the passenger seat. A creeping chill traveled up the back of her neck as she saw the empty seat. Her hand fell from her mouth, letting the taste of salt find the frown of her lips.

Angela turned off the radio and drove off.

-

Amélie ran her fingers through soft hair in her lap, ignoring the movie playing in the background and the weight of her eyelids every time she blinked. Her girlfriend fell asleep halfway through, all cocooned up with a blanket, using Amélie as a pillow.

Cute.

When she came back from her meeting with Angela that morning, Amélie had found her girlfriend hadn’t left. It was… Relief. Amélie had gotten to her apartment trembling, failing to get the door open as her hands refused to still. The keys fell. She scraped them off the floor and tried again, scratching the lock with another unsuccessful attempt.

And then there was Oli, opening the door with a yawn and a hand scratching an itch beneath her shirt. Her sleepy eyes blinked wide open as she swooped forward and caught the keys that fell out of Amélie’s hands once more. Olivia had straightened up and pulled Amélie inside. She didn’t ask questions. She never asked questions.

At first, Amélie had a moment where she didn’t want to move. Because she’d be inside with Oli, where everything else in the fucking world didn’t matter. She’d have everything she didn’t deserve. But, Amélie knew she wouldn’t have made it inside if she didn’t go. And with each step she took, she ignored the thought that she couldn’t have everything that was good.

No words passed between them. The harsh pounding in Amélie’s chest settled down as she stumbled along Olivia’s path, led on by a warm hand squeezing hers toward the bedroom.

The bed sank beneath their weight.

Amélie closed her eyes as she selfishly clung to her comforts. They were more than Amélie could have asked for but she took everything Olivia gave. She always did.

Heavy eyelids blinked open. Amélie sat up on the couch. The last scene of the movie played on the screen and Olivia still snoozed away on her lap. They needed to get to bed. But first, Amélie wanted a shower.

Trying her best not to disturb Olivia, Amélie slid out from the couch. At least, she tried to.

Olivia groaned at the movement and doubled down her hold on Amélie.

Amélie tried again. She pushed away at heavy limbs and then felt Olivia move her head.

Sleepy eyes narrowed at Amélie to match the frown Olivia gave her. She didn’t have to say a damn thing when that face said it all.

The corner of Amélie’s lips twitched upward. “I want to take a shower.”

Olivia blinked at the words. She took her time sitting up, all the while keeping her cocooned blanket intact. Her voice cracked as she spoke, thick with sleep, “I’ll wait up for you.” A yawn escaped her lips before she could speak the last syllable.

Finally, on her feet, Amélie leaned over Olivia with a grin. “I don’t think you’ll make it.”

Olivia yawned and shook her head. “I will.”

Amélie scooped up Olivia and walked with her to the bedroom. She laid Olivia on the bed, “Just in case you can’t.” Her grin softened as Olivia shook her head again and curled up on Amélie’s side.

Before heading to the bathroom, Amélie checked her phone and left it on the bedside table.

-

“What?” Fareeha could finally hear again: her breathing and the creaking of the chair as Ana held onto it tighter.

“Fareeha,” Ana lifted her hand from the chair and wrung her fingers together, “the reason Angela,” her hands stilled and she shifted her gaze to a corner of the room, “is how she is now…” Ana struggled to spit out the words, lips pressed together in prolonged silence.

“Just tell me.” The words rushed out of Fareeha’s mouth to the point where she didn’t know if she actually spoke or if she had imagined she said something.

“She thinks you’re gone.”

Fareeha furrowed her brows. She pressed a hand to her chest, “I’m right here.”

The old chair scraped against the floor as Ana pulled it out. As soon as she sat down, she brought a hand to her mouth as tears watered her eye. 

Fareeha stood, quiet and tense. She had never seen that woman cry in her life.

“Fareeha, you died. After you got on that bus, I only saw you again at the funeral. Your own damn funeral. We buried you.” Ana shoved a finger Fareeha’s way. “Two years ago we buried you.”

The hand on Fareeha’s chest dropped to her side.

“You weren’t here to see what that did to her,” Ana pointed to her chest, “what it did to me.”

Fareeha lost touch with the tips of her fingers. They slipped over each other, numb to the bone. Her ears lost feeling and it spread down, until she worried about floating away, carried off by a wind that knew she didn’t belong.

Ana’s crying faded, replaced by the sound of blasting headphones two seats down and the bus trudging along the road. Fareeha recalled a night sky full of stars and a field that stretched out past forever through the window.

And then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

“Fareeha…” A warm hand reached out.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Fareeha lifted her head from the window at the hand on her shoulder. She blinked in tired surprise despite knowing that she kept falling asleep ever since she spoke to Angela. Fareeha couldn’t see the face that asked the question, concealed by a blur of a memory. Had she ever seen it? Fareeha smiled and shook her head.

“Fareeha.”

A hand touched Fareeha’s shoulder. Fareeha narrowed her eyes. She saw her mother’s face, concern shining down on her. And she was on the floor, knees to her chest. Fareeha twitched a finger, almost scared to death at the perfect response. Her fingers squeezed into a fist. “I’m right here.” At the very least, that was the only thing she fucking knew.

Ana removed her hand and wiped away at her eye. “I know, I know you are.”

Fareeha scooted the little way to the wall and leaned her head against it. She patted the space next to her and listened as her mother sat beside her. She heaved a sigh. “From the beginning, tell me what happened.”

-

Hardly anyone drove with it being so dark out. It suited Angela well enough. She drove aimlessly, paying no mind to where she went, just as long as she didn’t have the time to stew in her thoughts. She had to focus on the road, a good enough distraction to steer her thoughts away from the urge to call Amélie.

It was late.

Amélie probably wouldn’t pick up.

But…

I’ll be there whenever you need me. Amélie said it herself.

Angela bit her lower lip as she mulled over her options. She needed to talk to someone who understood. Like Amélie.

A sound caught Angela’s attention, like a dulled scraping against pavement. The car slowed down. Shit.

Pulling over onto the side of the road, Angela got out of the car and confirmed her flat tire with a groan. She ran a hand down her face and then pulled out her phone from the waistband of her pants to call for roadside assistance.

With a phone in her hands and help an hour out, Angela didn’t stop her thumb from tapping back to her text messages to hover over Amélie’s name. And then she locked her screen.

“I shouldn’t bother her.” But Angela already unlocked the phone and tapped out a message.

-I know we spoke this morning but

Halfway done and hastily typed, Angela sent the message before she could regret it.

“Shit.”

Angela blew out a held breath and decided on trying to get Amélie to forget about it. Except, she got a response.

-What’s happening?

Thumbs frozen for a second, Angela got them to tap out her situation in a neat summary that devolved into a mess the instant she read what she sent.

-I’ll be there soon.

Every part of Angela knew she shouldn’t have texted Amélie but she couldn’t deny the relief that came knowing Amélie was on her way.

Sitting in the backseat with the door open to feel the night breeze, Angela busied herself with playing solitaire. She got stuck on an expert game of FreeCell when a car pulled up behind hers. Angela squinted, trying to see past headlights. A black car. Amélie’s was blue.

A woman wearing a jacket too long in the sleeves, sweats, and bright-pink sneakers came out. She had her hair up in a mess, a few purple-tipped strands stuck out around her face. “Angela, right?”

Angela raised an eyebrow and assumed the woman came for the car. “You’re here for the flat tire?”

The woman got closer. She studied the flat tire and then looked at Angela, face giving nothing away. “Actually,” she pointed to the phone in Angela’s hands, “that was me you were texting.”

Angela furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

Another step closer. The woman crossed her arms. “It means Amélie isn’t coming.”

That could have meant anything. A cautious hand reached out for the door handle, ready to pull it shut at any moment.

The woman heaved a sigh at Angela’s reservations. “Look,” she rubbed at the back of her neck, “Amélie’s my girlfriend. She was in the shower when I left.”

Angela voiced her concerns. “That doesn’t make anything better.” She sat up straight and frowned when she got an eyeroll.

“I don’t want to be here long so listen. Drop Amélie. Just, whenever you get your shit fixed, go home and forget about her.”

Does she think…? Angela stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her. “We’re not- Nothing is going on between. We-”

“I know what you two do.”

Angela warmed with brewing anger. She didn’t want to be doing any of this shit. “You must care about her a lot, I understand.” The woman gave a smile that had Angela relax her shoulders a fraction.

“I do.” The smile vanished. “That’s why I really want you to listen when I say you don’t want Amélie’s help.”

Angela’s eye twitched. “And why’s that? You must have a reason,” Angela placed a hand on her chest, “because I can’t think of a good one.”

The woman put her hands in her pockets and regarded Angela with tired eyes and a sigh. “Because you don’t know her.”

“But you do.”

A smile peeked out from the other woman’s lips. “You didn’t even know about me.”

“That’s-”

“Don’t you think it’s strange we’ve been together a year but she hasn’t made one mention of me? You know, she tells me all about you.”

“I…”

“Oh, but she’s so kind and she listens. Knows exactly what to say to make you feel better. Maybe it just slipped her mind. Things like that happen. Even after a year and a half of your little meetings.” A shrug. “But you should know why she keeps seeing you, right?”

“Because she…” The words died on Angela’s lips the moment she caught on to that woman’s grin widening. Her stomach churned as ice spread through her chest.

“Because?”

Silence. Angela’s heart thumped hard against her chest, threatening to burst at any moment.

Tired eyes returned and the smile simmered away. “Guilt.”

Angela furrowed her brows.

“Every time she sees you, she remembers that maybe she doesn’t deserve to be happy, that maybe she should have just woken up the woman who fell asleep on the bus.”

Angela backed up, reaching out behind to brace herself against her car. Her body slid against the metal exterior until she sat on the ground, hands pressed to her forehead. She screamed at the other woman but she couldn’t hear her own words over the ringing in her ears.

-

Amélie laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her wet hair soaked through the sheets beneath her head. She let it happen, too focused on tapping stiff fingers against the warm phone sitting on her stomach.

Every instinct told her to run. Because it was safer. One thought kept Amélie on that damn bed. The one thing she didn’t deserve. That didn’t stop her from wanting it. Hot tears burned down her cheeks in a pointless attempt to calm her mounting fear.

Amélie worried her teeth against the inside of her lip. Her fingers pressed the phone harder against her stomach as the taste of copper spread against the tip of her tongue. She sucked in a deep breath, mindlessly wiping at her face with the sleeve of the bathrobe as she focused on calming down.

Five minutes. That’s all Amélie needed.

Soft sleeves slipped back to her sides. Pretty eyes met hers from the doorway. Washing away Amélie’s efforts, fresh tears stained her cheeks again. Shit.

How long had Olivia been standing there? Trembling lips spread into a smile. Amélie had no fucking idea.

“I love you.” Amélie ran out of time to prepare anything more to say. And there were so many things she could have said, the warm phone clenched between her palms reminded her of one of them.

“I didn’t think that’d be one of the things you’d want to say to me,” said Olivia. She pushed away from the doorway, walking to the bed with a slow, spreading smile.

“It’s the only thing I have to say.” If Amélie got to keep Olivia, that’d be entirely unfair. But not out of the question. Amélie peeled one hand away from her phone and held it out for Olivia, inviting the other woman onto the bed with her.

Olivia pushed away from the door, teeth peeking out her grin when she took Amélie’s invitation. She sat down on the bed, sweatpants slowly soaking through as Amélie rested her head against them. “You don’t even want to talk about this?” Oliva pressed her thumb to the corner of Amélie’s lip and wiped away a spot of blood that stuck to her skin.

Amélie ran her tongue along the wound agitated by Olivia’s touch. It burned the inside of her lip. The pain became a stinging reminder to stay focused. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall for the attention. She always did. “No.”

“You know,” Olivia smoothed away wet strands of hair that stuck to Amélie’s face, “I love you too.”

Amélie had to smile. There was always something more. She wiped away at her drying tears, resolving to find out what more meant. “Would you still love me if you found out what I did?”

“You could do almost anything and I’d still love you.”

“Like what?” Amélie listened to the agonizing quiet as she waited for an answer.

Like,” Olivia’s hand found Amélie’s, “the fact,” her fingers curled around Amélie’s, “that you killed Fareeha Amari for ten million.” She pulled Amélie’s hand to her lips, pressing a smiling kiss to them.

A burst of quiet flooded the room.

The phone Amélie still held buzzed in her hand, pressed between her body and Olivia’s leg. She let go of it. The buzzing slid further down the bed as Amélie inched closer to Olivia, disappearing to wherever the hell it went.

Amélie couldn’t hear anything. Just the heart pumping in her throat. And the way her breathing cracked, allowing a broken sob to slip through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last chapter. It'll be something alright :)  
> I am happy to answer questions, but I might hold onto an answer if the next chapter will address it.


End file.
